November 2, 1986
Maris allowed me to kiss her for the first time tonight. A very soft kiss, and yet I felt as if my heart were about to explode. She's been so averse to any sort of physical contact that I really felt as if I'd achieved a breakthrough in our relationship. She was very still as I kissed her. I suppose she has some fear of intimacy. I've tried to get her to open up with me, but I haven't had much luck. If she were a patient I would characterize her as incredibly recalcitrant. I feel sure that she must have significant psychological issues, perhaps with her family, that would lead to her self-isolation and emotional inaccessibility. However, she won't let me in, so to speak. Well, that could be literal as well as figurative, really - I still haven't seen the inside of the manor. She's never invited me in. I'm reluctant to invite her back to my apartment; it certainly isn't anything to be ashamed of by most people's standards, but then, Maris is not most people. I dread that she'll realize somehow that the life I lead with her is really beyond my means, and that I live very much more frugally. Luckily, the research on gestalt therapy is going nicely; I'm really beginning to put it together now. I have the distinct suspicion that in a year's time my name will be much more widely known. That will be a relief in so many ways. I'll be closer to being Maris' social equal; I'll be able to look Frasier in the face (if I ever see his face again) and know that I am as well-respected as he; my career will take off. Funny, that I should list the career last... now, quiet, inner Niles, you've done enough analysis for the day.
Maris allowed me to kiss her for the first time tonight. A very soft kiss, and yet I felt as if my heart were about to explode. She's been so averse to any sort of physical contact that I really felt as if I'd achieved a breakthrough in our relationship. She was very still as I kissed her. I suppose she has some fear of intimacy. I've tried to get her to open up with me, but I haven't had much luck. If she were a patient I would characterize her as incredibly recalcitrant. I feel sure that she must have significant psychological issues, perhaps with her family, that would lead to her self-isolation and emotional inaccessibility. However, she won't let me in, so to speak. Well, that could be literal as well as figurative, really - I still haven't seen the inside of the manor. She's never invited me in. I'm reluctant to invite her back to my apartment; it certainly isn't anything to be ashamed of by most people's standards, but then, Maris is not most people. I dread that she'll realize somehow that the life I lead with her is really beyond my means, and that I live very much more frugally. Luckily, the research on gestalt therapy is going nicely; I'm really beginning to put it together now. I have the distinct suspicion that in a year's time my name will be much more widely known. That will be a relief in so many ways. I'll be closer to being Maris' social equal; I'll be able to look Frasier in the face (if I ever see his face again) and know that I am as well-respected as he; my career will take off. Funny, that I should list the career last... now, quiet, inner Niles, you've done enough analysis for the day.